


you shan't find fear in the warmness of my embrace

by hallowed (AMRainer)



Series: as told through history. [2]
Category: I Medici | Medici: Masters of Florence (TV)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, F/M, I know they are technically married so it's not developing a relationship, Idiots in Love, but they are developing trust and affection so bear with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26714050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMRainer/pseuds/hallowed
Summary: it's the openness of his heart in the lace of her arms that makes him think she must have been the perfect choice.
Relationships: Contessina de' Bardi/Cosimo di Giovanni de' Medici
Series: as told through history. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824556
Comments: 9
Kudos: 24





	you shan't find fear in the warmness of my embrace

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am again, bringing this to you because I've been thinking of how to address that Contessina knows about Damiano's death. With Piccarda the way she was on the show, I think hardly would Cosimo be able to hide this from his wife for long, so I added this to the previous open thread I left in my other work ( in this shirt, i can be you ), to start on this matter.
> 
> There will be a second part to this particular piece as he does not speak plainly in it just yet since Contessina's man is quite difficult to express his feelings, isn't he?
> 
> Or even a third if I feel like writing for spicy things between them.
> 
> Which, let's face it, I will ;)

A sight to behold.

Her figure standing near the windows, dark hair partially bound and the lights stroking her pale skin as if they wished to create a painting of the present. Even the faded rose of her silk dress, an oversized coat that was to shield the internal layer of a snug gown which Cosimo would make sure to tear down later in the day.

For now, though, he stood in the doorway with sapphires eclipsed by the delicate beauty of his wife. Breathtaking, really, the way she was blissfully unaware of how she moved about life to have others hover around her as if they were made to do all her biddings. Unintentional, even, and he hoped that wouldn’t change anytime soon, because if he ought to pay silent attention to that ethereal composition she formed, then _he_ was the most lucky.

This was their weekend in Careggi, months after his father required him to do his part in Rome. Time seemed to drag, extend immeasurably in that period as they exchanged letters as if they had always been lovers, and he yearned for her more than he thought possible ( especially after the last time they shared previous to his departure ).

Life might have its twists and turns, but he quite enjoyed the found peace of their union — even if both had tempers that would cut it short eventually. All about basking in the good moments, cherishing the memories of a possible paradise as if the future could be just about this.

If he’s not mistaken, the wedding vows did read _‘for better, for worse’_.

Masculine hands rested on her upper arms, attention caught as she tilted her head to the side only to find him standing close to her from behind. Never failed to amuse her how she was this much shorter, her sight darting up afore she dared lean into him and tear her sight from his visage to have it captured by the landscape outside.

Those vineyards that would be given to her eventually, along with the mills and some other business. In fact, this same property where they stood would be administered by none other than herself, grow to be her favorite place as much as it already was his.

“It’s still early”, it posed as an open invitation to whatever she wished to do, almost as if checking on her own interests instead of imposing his own.

“Do you enjoy riding?”, chimed in the younger brunette, which caught her counterpart off guard.

Contessina sensed the hesitation, peeked sideways to find him with a bewildered frown and tinge of flush to his cheeks that announced the turn her statement took. And while there was a coy grin on her lips, she moved from his arms to fetch herself a goblet of water as the trip up here took them a while.

It struck Cosimo pretty much speechless, unsure if he should draw a positive to both cases or retain the piece of indecent information to himself. To think it had been about a quarter since their arrival and he was already with his mind consumed by mundane ideas.

“As in, I haven’t been allowed to mount since we married, so I thought perhaps we could do so together”, the metallic material reached her brims by the end of her sentence, greens moving to catch her husband’s fathomless expression.

Tongue darted to dampen his lower lip, swallowed thick as he wondered how was he to respond to all of this. He couldn’t be the only one perceiving things in that particular way, could he? Also, when had she become an expert of word games while maintaining such composed features?

Therefore, the man cleared his throat at last, hands clasped behind his back as he mused to himself how he could possibly match up to her sentence. Usually Cosimo was quite the master of vernacular, had always been skilled with it and used such trait in his favor.

“If my wife wishes to ride, then by all means I shall provide”, it was his laced reply afore he took the goblet from her hand and drained the remaining to sate a thirst for other thing that strayed away from the water.

There was this dimple carving her cheek, telling him that he had pretty much reached both meanings in a single movement. Her chuckle that followed, the way her lips pressed together to try and stop her own trail of thoughts at his sentence. Ah yes, he seemed to be up for a good start with this, and the manner she shook her head in amusement was his proof.

“Fair enough, I’ll change while you see to the horses”, it was the final words as she casted him a gleeful pair of hues and took off to the master room upstairs.

Wouldn’t be fairly much of work to him as he requested their housekeeper to fetch the stallions ( trusted Contessina would know how to handle one, since he learned that from being a single child, she had been brought up in ways that differed to most women ). It wasn’t a complaint, _no_ , since he had grown to enjoy the match that she presented to him — always clever with thoughts, direct and sharp with words even when others would have told her to be quiet.

He wouldn’t, that wasn’t his place, and so on he petted the equine until he heard the footsteps of a woman and assumed those were hers. It was quite easy to identify, Cosimo soon realized as he had grown used to have either his father or brother around.

“Husband”, came in her delicate tone, a hand pressed swiftly to his upper arm afore he took in her figure and aided her up the horse with steady hands on her hips as ever. “Thank you.”

Part of him wished to say that she needn’t do so, for it was his duty as much as it was hers to help in what was necessary. But then he did not, chose to simply squeeze her ankle in an almost playful manner as this, to be fair, was just was a way for him to ensure that she was safely placed on the saddle.

Once the heir had mounted his own, held tight on the leash as he perused the fields to where he thought they could seek a better spot to eventually see the city from above, it was her turn to surprise him.

“Do you intend to contemplate life your entire day, Messer Medici?”, a hint of mockery as her boots each tapped the horse’s side to plunge it into moving forward.

It was an open challenge she offered. Azure tints, then, narrowed by lids when he soon followed in hopes to pick up her pace. And it wouldn’t take long, to be fair, for them to sprint on the open yards as if they were fearless and had not a single care in the world but who would win this race in the end.

One of the servants followed shortly behind, all too aware if both Cosimo and Contessina went missing or ( _worse_ ) suffered any type of harm on the way, that could be quite disastrous for the Medici. For Florence even, had all known what they would become with the passage of time.

Not that a single man could prevent anything, in all truth, yet it gave some type of security that they were not left entirely unwatched. Would most likely keep away any attempts on their lives had it come to this, despite how it was hardly considerable given how Giovanni hadn’t taken the measures as a politician that would turn this game on their side.

Let the time do its own moves, for now it was just the way Contessina’s hair moved wildly with the gushes of wind and the way he was almost keeping himself at second just so he could witness the triumphant figure composed by her at the moment. Losing wasn’t his forte, though, and just as they made it past a particular path it was his turn to lunge forward and suit the heads as they were a hairbreadth of distance to decide who would win.

Perhaps neither, most likely _both_.

And when she saw a vessel of the Arno crossing the property, it was her turn to pull back the reins and have her stallion perform a fashionable stunt much to his bemused features as he, too, was to slow down out of wonderment at why she did so. When the older brunette approached her once more, taking in the way her chest heaved at their activities, there was a question etched on his visage.

“There is a river”, came in her response, trotting towards the nearest tree as she carefully dismounted only to have him hot on her heels.

“Contessina, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”, his strained response was not entirely unexpected, though for reasons that she was blissfully unaware of.

“Come on, husband! It’s just water!”, a feline grin as she rid of her boots in time for him to quickly deal with his stallion in an attempt to stop her from running towards the water.

Had she paid further attention, even unaware of the tragic background that surrounded those waters, Contessina would have certainly refrained from pausing by the spot. The dark-haired male’s shoulders were on the verge of pulling the muscle, his jaw clenched and something haunted that was to coat the gems of his sight.

Thus, when her flushed visage rose from her feet, the certain mischief, as of a child about to climb up a tree, soon vanished. Wiped off by the touch of his hand on her wrist, asking her not to move from the side of the horse.

“ _You_ are not going”, his order was plain, and despite how their marriage only with the distance had changed for the better, the noblewoman had never seen him this much incisive on her since their engagement.

It stirred something within her, greens darting to the way his hands were rather cold and she took its opposite only to see the slight tremble. Her husband did many things, but shaking wasn’t one of them ( and then she thought this to be _fear_ , thought this to be something else about him that she did not know ).

Her sight locked with his face, a tense line around his lips and she merely nodded before reaching to cup his cheek and gently stroke the pad of her thumb on his skin. There was a huff of a growing beard there, one she welcomed along with the way he had changed for a shorter haircut shortly after his arrival, her hand being quite useful with the scissors and all else.

That fright in his expression resembled that of a child, defenseless and delicate after facing their worst memory. And he had, to be fair, hated those waters as much as he hated the memory of his brother submerging never to be seen again, and how Cosimo himself had escaped for a slim chance from the swirl of water that engulfed Damiano only to be found hours later far away from the spot he was taken.

It sounded selfish to hold back that from her and then forbid her from something of the sort, even foolish of him because Contessina was a grown woman and far away from unable to defend herself for all he knew. But he got used to her, to even try to woo her with words despite how he was no romantic whatsoever, to touch her as man and wife and catch that gasp of her with his lips every single time he found the utmost completion in her body.

He _couldn’t_ lose her ( and even years later, when he left his wife behind at the city, she did not go by without some pairs of trusted men’s eyes ensuring nothing was to come in harm’s way ).

“I won’t, it’s alright. . . take your time, yes?”, was her reassurance, a streak of surprise flashing past his youth-filled countenance as he was brought from the adrift state to the present of her fingers splayed on his side.

Perhaps it was the way she easily complied, easily read him like her favorite novel and doubted him not that she ought to stay on grounds instead. The hand that was on her wrist, still tightly fastened, was to let go in order to smoothly rest on her waist, to bring her closer and indulge in her presence as she provided him with a taste of reality that he much craved.

Cosimo never thanked her, failed to find the proper words twice already by then — thought that if she kept at this pace of striking him with useless compositions every single time then he ought to withdraw from politics and leave that much for her. Tip of his nose nuzzled into hers, lips finding the silky touch of hers amidst a kiss that weighed heavy on her.

Enough to have her free extremity gripping the undone hem of his top for balance — her petite self, regardless of how tall she appeared by presence, making him tower over her. Those riding boots did not do much for her case either and since she had discarded, even less so, the lack of heels leaving the Earl’s daughter to fetch entertainment by the manner that, if he were to pull her into an embrace, her head would perfectly fit under his jaw.

In the distance, a man’s voice could be heard, “Messer, Madonna, there should be rain soon!”.

And it was slightly embarrassing that they were caught by someone else with their lips blended, elicited a small chuckle on her part against his mouth and the Medici heir pressed his lips to his wife’s laughter only to have the faint trace of a smile on his handsome visage. A wash of relief, that Contessina hadn’t required of him an immediate answer, that she hadn’t pressed for an exchange that he hadn’t coped to openly speak of in over a decade.

In times like this, as he lifted her onto the saddle of her horse and helped the ties of her boots back around her feet, Cosimo thought his father might have made the correct choice for once, despite how he wouldn’t ever let that confession slip past his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are much appreciated!!


End file.
